


Doing Alright

by evergolds



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, Smut, just some boys havin some fun!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21892375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evergolds/pseuds/evergolds
Summary: literally just 5.3k of  maylor getting high and having some sexy times!! smut and a lil fluff hehehe (ft. a little deacury makeout sesh!!)
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Freddie Mercury
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79





	Doing Alright

**Author's Note:**

> hello! my first ever published fic... just posting it here but it's also on my tumblr at dayoneliveaid but please feel free to leave me constructive comments or come message me on my blog <3 i know this fandom is lowkey dead but for those of you still out there, this is for you baby!!!

“Brian, darling, you’ve got to lighten up a bit! It’s only marijuana,” Freddie drawled, rolling the rrr sound out for much longer than Brian was comfortable with. It wasn’t that Brian was against smoking, exactly. He had just never really seen the appeal before. He was happy with the buzz from a few beers on occasion, and never really desired more.

“Really, Bri, you’ll love it. Makes the whole world go fuzzy and lovely,” John chimed in, joining in on the peer pressure. Taking a long drag from the joint Roger had expertly rolled a few minutes ago, John let his head loll back on the armrest of the couch he was splayed out on.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, mate,” Roger piped in, already enjoying the calming sensation from the few hits he’d taken. “But it does feel nice. Like, real nice,” he added, subtly licking those pouty pink lips Brian could never say no to.

Brian looked around at the three of them, all lounging about on different plush couches and armchairs that decorated the interior of the posh little hotel room they were hanging out in: Freddie stoned out of his mind, John following shortly after, and Roger with that goofy little smile he always got when he was a little too happy.

After thinking a few more moments, Brian shrugged and plucked the joint from John’s fingers, mimicking with his own the way he had seen them all holding it. He brought it up to his lips, looking over at Roger for, perhaps, some encouragement or pride or something else ridiculous that Brian was always trying to get out of him, and took a hit.

He’d obviously smoked cigarettes before, though he had quit them long ago, so the smoke quickly filling his mouth was not an unfamiliar feeling. He breathed in the smoke, the stale burnt-plant taste sticking to his tongue while everything else filled his throat and lungs. He didn’t cough, really, just breathed out a little uneasy, waiting to see what effect it might have.

As soon as he’d exhaled, John broke out into a round of applause, followed by Freddie shouting, “Bravo, darling! Couldn’t be more proud! We’ll make a proper druggie of you yet, my love!” Roger didn’t do much else but smirk, and snatch the joint from between Brian’s fingers to take his own puff from it. “Want another, Bri? I don’t think one hit will do much for you anyhow,” Roger asked, blowing smoke out his mouth as he said it. And god, if it didn’t just look so attractive when Roger did it, smoking might not seem so appealing to Brian in that moment.

So Brian took another drag, a little longer this time, holding it a bit deeper. Almost as soon as he breathed out again, he could feel some sort of funny foreign sensation take him over. It wasn’t all-consuming by any means, not like getting properly plastered. It began slowly, more like his sense of time was getting slightly warped, calming him fractionally. He looked across to Roger, unable to help the giddy smile that spread across his face as he scanned the drummer’s features. It felt like it took ages to take his eyes off Roger, starting with those damned babydoll eyes, to the slightly upturned slope of his nose, down to those rosy lips he always fancied to steal a glance at.

“Alright, Bri?” Roger asked, almost a whisper, eyebrow cocking ever so slightly.

“Yeah. Alright,” Brian replied, blinking his eyes through what felt like the thickest air he’d ever breathed. Everything was moving so slow, but in a good way. Like he’d never have to take his eyes off Roger if things stayed like this. His head would stay warm and filled with these pretty little images of Roger smirking at him like that.

“Boys, I think we’ve done it,” Roger chuckled, getting Freddie and John’s attention, “I think Bri’s properly stoned!”

Freddie and John immediately began cackling, getting just as much enjoyment out of the slightly ridiculous face Brian was making as he tried to reconcile his movements with the strange, strange way his head was starting to feel.

“Isn’t it wonderful, Bri? I told you you’d love it. Makes you feel so good, dunnit? Makes you want to lay down and hug everything,” Freddie mused, crawling over to where John was laying on the floor to give him a full-bodied hug. “And kiss everyone,” he giggled, pressing little wet kisses to John’s cheek. The bassist immediately blushed pink, trying to push Freddie away to save his own dignity. “Not in front of the boys, Fred,” John chuckled, quiet and sheepish.

Brian pried his eyes from the little scene Freddie was making to look over at Roger again, his mind going blurry and tranquil. Roger did the same, as he knew John didn’t like it when Freddie was so publicly affectionate toward him, smiling wide and happy as he locked eyes with Brian.

“Fred’s right,” Roger said, voice low as he scooted closer to Brian on the couch they shared. “Makes you want to do all sort of things,” he almost-whispered, gently removing the joint from between Brian’s fingers so he could take another drag. He then stood up and announced, “Alright, boys. This has been lovely, but I’m quite tired. Gonna go to bed.”

With the joint, and a wink to Brian, Roger left the room to go down to the hall the the room he was actually meant to be staying in. All four of them always got their own hotel rooms on tours, but they usually ended up just hanging out and sharing until Freddie and John wanted to fuck–which is exactly what it looked like they were about to do, Brian realized–and he certainly did not want to be there for that.

“Um,” Brian mumbled, standing up shakily, “I think… I’ll go to bed as well. Night lads,” he said, the drugs clearly having no effect on his ability to be intensely awkward at times, his two other bandmates already snogging wildly on the floor next to him.

However, instead of going to his own room, Brian decided he still wanted to hang out with Roger. The high was making all his pining much more intense, somehow. He didn’t think it was ever possible for Roger to get prettier than he usually was, but somehow the drugs put Brian on a whole new level of worship for the drummer.

“Rog?” he whispered, giving a light knock on Roger’s door. “Fred and John are, um, you know. They’re… can I come in? Hang out a bit?” he asked, words coming out lazy and a little slurred. Roger answered the door, slightly less dressed than the last time Brian saw him.

He answered the door in quite the outfit: just some grey boxer briefs and a billowy open button-down that Brian recognized as his own. “Course, Bri. Come on in,” he said, welcoming Brian into the room.

“Is that… is that my shirt, Rog?” Brian asked, eyes scanning his entire body, from the wispy blonde hairs on his legs, up to the bare chest peeking out from his shirt, right up to that bloody adorable face he always had on.

“Suppose it is, Bri. Problem?” he asked, definitely aware of the once-over Brian was giving him. Brian didn’t notice the little smirk on Roger’s face as his band member gave his whole body a scan.

“No, no. No problem,” Brian mumbled, head spinning with an overwhelming feeling of satisfaction. He was so fucking happy, standing across from Roger wearing hardly anything except his own clothing that was adorably oversized on the drummer’s smaller frame. “I just, um. Didn’t know you had it, and I think I’m like. Really high?” he giggled, eyes crinkling up at the sides.

“Good, glad that one’s settled. You do realize you’re stoned off your ass, yeah?” Roger laughed, leading Brian inside to take a seat on the bed he’d just been lounging around on.

“Yeah, I’ve gathered that,” Brian replied, his already soft spoken manner somehow even softer now. “Feels quite nice though. Like everything’s just… dreamy. Like, I keep looking at you and it’s just how you’ve always been–‘cause you’ve always been nice and cute and everything. But this is like… different. Like Fred said. It’s like I could have a big cuddle and hug you forever and not have it be enough, I think. Y’know?”

Roger grinned, lip quirking up at every new ridiculous word that was spilling from Brian’s mouth. “You think I’m cute?” he asked, cheeky as ever, hiding a little blush on his cheeks.

Brian sighed, like he had been keeping his admiration for Roger a secret and he was suddenly being found out. Because, after all, it wasn’t truly a secret.

It started as a running joke within the band–Freddie taking jabs at him for always following Roger around like a lost puppy, John making some snide remark about how Brian always had “heart eyes” for Roger when he had a solo–but Brian never found the comedy in it. Roger, too, caught on to the way Brian would look at him, catch his eyes lingering on his lips while they were talking, the way his hands might catch a little too long on the small of his back when they’d hug. But Roger didn’t mind it at all, not in the least. He always leaned into it, let Brian admire him, stare, touch, linger as much as he wanted.

So Roger would do it, too. He’d catch Brian staring and return it with a wink, hug him a little tighter so their hips fit right up against each other, bury his face into Brian’s neck to breathe in his scent. Not things they talked about, nothing they’d ever mention. It wasn’t all too serious.

Until suddenly, stoned out of his mind, it felt very serious to Brian. Serious enough for Brian to reach out and take Roger’s hand in his own, studying it carefully, slipping his own fingers between Roger’s and holding them like that.

“You’re more than cute, Rog. You’re bloody wonderful. Like, the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” Brian said, voice low and light, almost inaudible. “So talented and beautiful a-and everybody loves you so much, y’know. Even if you’re a bit of a dick sometimes. I think you’re sweet, really.”

Roger blinked up at Brian, eyes wide in disbelief. “Bri, are you serious, or just taking the piss? Because it’s not funny if you are!”

“I’m not,” Brian replied calmly, stroking his thumb over the top of Roger’s hand as if to let him know just how serious he was being. “I just think you’re lovely.”

And with that, Brian leaned in carefully until his lips were pressed gently against Roger’s. It felt like it took a million years to travel the distance between their mouths and finally get himself to exactly where he wanted to be–kissing his best friend.

Roger, though a bit taken aback at first, melted into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut. He let Brian kiss him slow, smooth, a bit chaste for Roger’s taste, honestly. But it was so sweet, so Brian, that he couldn’t even complain. He let Brian carefully prod his mouth open with his tongue, one hand moving to sink into the fluffy mess that was Roger’s hair.

After a minute or so, Roger got with the program and gave it right back to Brian, gripping at his shoulders and coming back at him with small nips to his lower lip and his tongue nudging a bit more aggressively into his mouth.

Before either of them could realize, they were falling back onto the bed, Roger half on top of Brian and leaving not a centimeter of space anywhere between them. Brian let his hands wander down to the shirt of his that Roger was wearing, and pushing it right off his shoulders to get his hands on the silky pale skin of his chest. This left Roger with close to nothing on besides his underwear, and Brian still completely clothed.

“So pretty,” Brian murmured up against his mouth, almost unaware of what he was saying.

It was all too erotic for Roger already, spread out on top of Brian with hardly anything to cover up just how much he was enjoying all of this. Of course he’d thought about it before, but never dreamed it would be quite as lovely as this. Brian was so gentle with him, almost like if he did everything he truly wanted with him, Roger might break–Brian’s hands ghosting over his chest, right down to his hips, holding him so tenderly. Roger had never had anyone treat him like this, handle him so delicately, let alone call him pretty.

“Bri,” Roger breathed in between kisses, trying to catch his breath as his mind raced to catch up with what was happening.

“Yeah, Rog? Are you–are you okay? Is this alright? I’m sorry if I was too forward,” he said, moving to sit up before Roger pushed him back down.

“Bri, no, it’s fine. Very fine. Bloody brilliant really,” he sighed, “I just really, uh, liked what you said before. About, being like, the prettiest person or whatever,” Roger said, ducking his head down into Brian’s chest so he might not see him blush so hard. “And I think,” he began, “I’d like it if you, um, if you would say it again.”

Brian was so fucking relieved to hear that, scared momentarily that Roger was going to tell him that this was a big mistake and snogging your friends wasn’t right or that just didn’t want Brian in the first place. But this–this was so much better.

“God, of course, Rog,” Brian exhaled, laughing with relief. He kissed him once more and pulled him closer by the hips, making sure he was looking into his eyes when he said, “You’re so fucking pretty, Roger. Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

Roger couldn’t even try to hide how much he loved hearing that, even surprised by it himself. His hips gave an involuntary roll down against Brian’s, breathing heavy as Brian showered him with praise.

“Get your kit off,” Roger breathed, rolling to the side so Brian could shed his clothes.

“Right, yeah,” Brian replied, eyes going wide as he did as he was told. He stripped off his shirt first, his trousers following suit.

“Much better,” Roger smiled, leaning up to kiss Brian once he was down to his boxers.

Brian was by no means a virgin, not even close, but something about Roger or the pot or something was making it feel like he had never truly been touched before, not like this. Every single one of his nerve endings flared each time Roger’s hands spread over his skin, let alone that mouth, god. Roger was kissing down Brian’s neck, cheeky little teeth nibbling every so often. All Brian could do was let out breathy little gasps as he let Roger have his way, little red and purple spots blooming wherever his mouth touched.

“Roger,” Brian sighed, getting the blond’s attention as he continued to kiss his way down Brian’s body.

“Yeah, mate?” Roger responded, the platonic nickname just a reflex at this point.

“Uh,” Brian laughed, shaking his head with incredulity, “first of all, can you not call me mate when I’ve got a hard on for you?”

“Sorry, sorry. Force of habit,” Roger replied, shrugging apologetically before he took notice of what Brian was talking about. “You are pretty hard, aren’t you, love?” he teased, ducking down so he was face-level with Brian’s crotch. He ran the very tip of his nose up Brian’s covered shaft, letting his breath ghost over the stretched out cotton.

“Rog,” Brian whined at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut. “That’s not… not what I was going to say,” he continued, words coming to him uneasily as he tried to balance the feeling of being stoned with the feeling of Roger’s face that close to his dick.

“What is it, Bri?” Roger asked, hands scratching at Brian’s bare thighs as his mouth hovered over Brian’s briefs, looking up at him with faux innocence.

“Was gonna ask if I could suck you off,” he replied, trying to find his words through the fog of intoxication and arousal.

Roger’s eyebrows practically jumped to his hairline, if only because it was so shocking to hear those words come from Brian fucking May.

“Bri, I’d love that. I really would,” he sighed, “But I know your mouth has got to be dry as hell from smoking, and I don’t want to put either of us through that, love.”

Brian took a minute to assess what Roger had said, realizing Roger was right. He hadn’t noticed it too much before, as he was thoroughly distracted by Roger’s tantalizing kisses, but his mouth did feel pretty horrendously dry.

“Oh,” Brian settled on, “you’re right. Another time then,” he said, disappointment clear in his voice. And God, did that kill Roger. Everything Brian did, he always did it so earnestly, so enthusiastically. To think he was actually sad he wasn’t going to get to suck Roger off had the drummer’s heart positively melting.

Roger crawled back up Brian’s body to give him a firm kiss on the lips, then leaning back to get a good look at him: messy curly brown hair, red-rimmed blown out eyes, and that sweet sincere face of his. “You really wanted to blow me, huh?” Roger asked, licking his lips. “Is that what you came over here for? Couldn’t stop thinking about getting your mouth on me? Wanted to see me fall apart with my cock down your throat? Saying your name and begging for more?” he questioned, cracking a smirk.

“Christ, Rog,” Brian mewled, hips rolling up against the blond’s involuntarily, “you’re fucking filthy.” He almost laughed out of shock, never thinking he’d hear words like that come out of his best friend’s mouth.

“I’m filthy?” Roger retorted, already thinking up the next thing that would get Brian even more riled up. “Love, you’ve no idea what kind of thoughts I’ve had about you,” he admitted, “God, Bri, you get me so fucking hot, don’t even have to try,” he continued, hips shifting subtly against Brian’s, just enough to get a tiny bit of friction going between their clothed erections.

“Think about you all the time. When we’re on stage, recording, especially at night, though,” Roger went on. “Wonder how it’d feel if you fucked me, what you’d look like, sound like saying my name. Gotten off so many times thinking about it,” he said, reaching down to palm Brian over his briefs, slow and almost teasing.

“M-Me, too,” Brian choked out, head swimming from the feeling of Roger’s hand that was rubbing his cock, driving him mad. “Think about fucking you more than I’d care to admit.”

Roger smirked, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Yeah? What do you think about, Bri? How d’you wanna fuck me?” he asked, one hand tugging at Brian’s underwear to get them off so he could actually stroke his cock.

“Oh, Rog,” Brian moaned, trying to get his brain to form coherent thought so he could respond properly, taking a minute to think. “Think about you on your hands and knees for me, fucking you from the back, ah, pulling your hair, making you b-beg,” Brian explained, words shaky from all the pleasure that was coursing through him from the dry friction of Roger’s hand.

“Fuck, Brian,” Roger sighed, shutting his eyes as his own cock throbbed at the thought.

“S-sometimes,” Brian continued, “think about you on your back, looking up at me. Those beautiful blue eyes, like. Ah, so pretty, Rog. Just want to hold you and fill you up and make you feel so fucking good.”

The rhythm of Roger’s hand on Brian’s cock faltered, a little gasp escaping his lips in response to Brian’s words. His rubbed his hips up against Brian’s thigh, dying for some satisfaction as all the words he’d always wanted to hear spilled from Brian’s mouth.

“Keep going,” Roger pleaded, spitting on his palm so he could get Brian’s cock wet as he continued to jerk him.

Brian nodded, adjusting to the new feeling on his shaft with a little moan before he went on. “Wanna hold you down, watch you take it. God, I know you would. You’d take it so well, wouldn’t you? My good boy, look at you,” Brian breathed, watching as Roger stroked him, one hand coming up to nestle into Roger’s hair and give it a little tug.

Roger let out a little moan, hips shifting against Brian’s thigh as he fucked his clothed cock up against it, trying to focus on what his hand was doing. It was getting hard to concentrate, though, his head now full of the filth that was spilling out of Brian’s mouth. It was exactly what he wanted, like Brian had secretly been in his head for years now and knew all the fucked up fantasies he always had about his best friend.

“Fuck me,” Roger whined, “please. If you keep talking I’m gonna come in my fucking pants and it’ll be so embarrassing, Bri. I’m so fucking hard for you, please, fucking anything.”

Brian took the opportunity to flip things around, push Roger onto his back and get on top of him. He yanked Roger’s briefs down to his ankles and took his cock in his hand, stroking him slowly.

“Brian,” Roger begged, eyes screwed shut with pleasure as Brian worked him over. Brian never seen Roger anything like this before, so needy and desperate–all for him.

“That’s it, love,” Brian whispered, nibbling on his ear, “I’ve got you.”

He leaned down and kissed Roger, wet and soft and messy, leaving a trail of them all the way down to his neck. He ran his thumb up and over Roger’s tip, wet and sticky with his arousal, smearing it all over his own hand to get it a little slicker.

“Bri, I-I can’t, I’m close,” Roger breathed, hips shifting up against Brian’s hand as he leaned into the little kisses that Brian was covering his chest with.

“That’s it, love. Come on. My pretty boy,” Brian cooed, using his free hand to brush the hair out of Roger’s face. The blond suddenly seized up, mouth dropping open as he shot off in Brian’s hand, a strangled little moan escaping his throat.

Roger looked almost sheepish as he came down from his high, as if he was embarrassed at how good Brian had made him feel. Brian just smiled and kissed him hard, giggling against his mouth as he wiped his soiled hand on the sheets next to him.

“You laughing at me?” Roger asked, a disbelieving laugh leaving his own mouth at Brian’s reaction to his orgasm.

“No, no,” Brian responded, giddy as ever. “I just… ‘m still a bit high and I can’t actually believe that just happened, y’know?”

“Oh, I know,” Roger snorted, shaking his head. “God, I can’t believe half the shit you just said to me. If I’d known you were capable of that… I’d have gotten you high years ago.”

Brian kissed him again, pecking his lips once, twice, three times. “Guess pot makes me a little more descriptive about how I want to fuck you,” he chuckled, cock rubbing up against Roger’s thigh as a reminder of how aroused he still very much was.

“I think pot just makes you horny, love. Perfectly normal,” Roger shrugged, hand skimming down Brian’s side and around to get a handful of his ass.

Brian lurched at the touch, surprised and pleased at the contact. “What are you doing with that now?” he asked, eyeing Roger with suspicion.

“Oh nothing,” Roger replied, looking up at him with squinty, playful eyes. “Just thought I might try something,” he teased, now gripping both of Brian’s cheeks.

“Try what?” Brian raised an eyebrow, head still riding his high from before, making things a little bit fuzzy for him.

“I just, uh,” Roger began, looking bashful and mischievous at the same time somehow, “I’ve always found that when I’m high, getting fingered is, like, really nice.”

Oh, Brian thought, now that’s different.

He paused, considering Roger’s proposition. Brian was a top through and through, had never had it any other way. Never even had his ass played with, definitely not fingered. But with Roger’s hands on his ass, and the excitement in those baby blue eyes of his, Brian kind of wanted to give it a go.

“We don’t have to,” Roger reminded him, sensing the hesitation in Brian’s expression, “but I’ve got some lube in my suitcase, and I think I could make it really good for you.” He kissed Brian’s neck as he let the guitarist contemplate the suggestion, sucking a tiny purple mark just below his ear.

Brian shivered at the thought of Roger’s hands, his fingers, how they might feel inside of him. He figured if pot could make all the regular stuff feel better than ever, surely it would make getting fingered feel just as great, right?

“Yeah, I want to,” Brian finally said, exhaling shakily, “Want your fingers in me.”

Roger grinned, kissing Brian before he rolled him off to go and grab the lube. It gave Brian a minute to contemplate the tingling in his spine from the pot, the blood still rushing to his cock, the feeling of the little marks Roger had left all over his chest and neck. It was the most debauched and delighted Brian had ever felt in his life.

“Alright, Bri. Let’s see how this goes, hm? Promise it’ll be good. And if it’s not, we can stop and you can just fuck my face, alright?”

Brian almost choked at the thought, shutting his eyes as his cock throbbed. He was now laying on his back, thighs spread a bit so the Roger could fit in between them as he crawled back up on the bed, fingers now properly slicked up.

“Alright, Rog. Come on,” Brian sighed, impatient as ever.

“Relax, babe. Gotta take it slow at first,” Roger replied, pressing a sweet kiss to Brian’s lips as his hand slipped between his legs.

He let the kiss fall into a messier rhythm, nibbling at Brian’s bottom lip and tonguing into his mouth, just to make sure he was truly enjoying himself as his fingers probed at Brian’s entrance.

“Pretty tight, aren’t you, love?” Roger chuckled, affection clear in his voice as he slipped a finger in to the first knuckle, careful to be gentle about it.

“Oh,” Brian sighed at the foreign feeling, kissing Roger back as best he could while he got used to Roger’s fingers.

Roger pushed his finger all the way in finally, pumping in and out as he felt around for that sweet little spot he knew Brian would scream for.

“You like it?” Roger asked, trying to read the expression on Brian’s face–a mixture of pleasure and confusion.

“I like you,” Brian replied without hesitation, immediately giggling after he’d said it. “I mean, uh, yeah. ‘S nice. Mostly ‘cause it’s you.”

Roger had no idea how Brian May got him to blush while he was the one getting fingered. Bloody amazing.

“You’re a sap,” Roger sighed, sinking a second finger into Brian as he said it.

Brian let out a little moan at that, enjoying the fuller feeling quite thoroughly, though he wasn’t exactly sure what all the hype was about just yet.

They made out while Roger leisurely pumped his fingers in and out of Brian, finally curling them in such a way that made Brian tense up, yell out in pleasure.

“Oh, Rog. My god, right there. Bloody, fuck!” he moaned, spreading his thighs a bit wider.

“That’s it, Bri. There we go. Is that where you like it? Gonna make you cum on my fingers, hm? Told you you’d like it, darling.”

Brian nodded, impossibly turned on by the cocky filth that was spilling from Roger’s mouth and the feeling of his fingers inside of him. He was absolutely squirming beneath the blond, gasping and panting and glowing from the pleasure.

As if all that wasn’t enough, Roger used his free hand to grip Brian’s dick, giving it a few measured strokes. All of it was too much for Brian, overwhelmed with how full he felt, the friction on his cock, and Roger’s beautiful eyes staring down at him like he was hanging in the Louvre or something.

“Rog,” he gasped, “fuck, I love you.”

And, with that, he was spilling into Roger’s hand, spasming and moaning like he never had before. His head was reeling, seeing stars, and too high to comprehend what he’d just done.

As he came down, Roger pulled his fingers out and immediately got up to go clean up in the ensuite bathroom. He left Brian to sit there in his post-orgasm mess, sobering slightly as he realized what had come out of his mouth a few seconds ago.

Left all alone now, Brian was terrified. He knew he had taken it too far, had made all of this weird. God, he was probably going to turn Roger off forever, and they’d never get to do any of this again. Such an idiot, he thought to himself, listening to the faucet run in the bathroom.

A few seconds later, Roger came back with a warm washcloth and threw it to Brian, wide smile on his face.

“Better clean up, love. You look a right state,” Roger laughed, not a trace of awkwardness or tension in his demeanor. It was as if Brian hadn’t said anything strange at all.

Brian nodded and wiped himself up, throwing the washcloth off to the side as he waited anxiously for Roger to address what he’d said mid-orgasm.

To Brian’s surprise, Roger just climbed right into bed with him, pulled the covers up and cuddled into his side. Brian was tense, unsure of what to do, confused as to why Roger wasn’t freaking out on him.

Instead, Roger was doing quite the opposite. He had taken to pressing little kisses to Brian’s pectoral, nuzzling into the crook of his underarm like a little house cat. It was bloody adorable, is what it was, but Brian was still terribly confused. Until Roger spoke: “Did you mean it?” he asked, voice all light and raspy.

“D-did I? I mean, uh. The thing I said? Before?” Brian replied, flustered and blushing harder than ever.

“Yeah,” Roger said, laughing at Brian’s clear awkwardness, “when you said you loved me. ‘S alright if you didn’t. I get it. Fingers up your ass can make you say all kinds of things.”

Brian shook his head, finally allowing himself to make eye contact with Roger once again. “I meant it. Yeah. Of course, I love you. You’re my best mate, Rog.”

Roger smiled, leaning up to kiss him, sweet and soft and perfect. “I love you, too, mate,” he teased, hinting at how utterly ridiculous Brian was being.

“Gosh, Rog. You know what I bloody well mean!” he laughed, cheeks burning bright red, “I love you, like properly. I let you put a hand up my ass, alright? If that’s not love, I reckon I don’t know what is!”

This time, Roger was in stitches, giggling into Brian’s chest. “Seemed to enjoy it, though, didn’t you, love?” he teased.

“Was nice,” Brian replied, sharing the laughter with his best friend now, trying to act like he hadn’t just been crying and moaning at the feeling.

“And you liked smoking, yeah?”

“Yeah, I liked it alright.”

“Hm. Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.”


End file.
